Prologue
I've been trained and groomed for this moment my whole life. My shoes echoed softly on the tiled floor of my family home. Beyond the double doors that lead to the dining room lay my destiny.
My father's beaten, worn hands pushed them aside, and I took in my surroundings. Wizards and witches filled the carefully carved wooden dining chairs. I'd known most of these people since I was born, although not well. These people didn't have time for small boys with big dreams.
Until now.
My gaze fell upon the being in the chair farthest from where I stood waiting. My father's arm tensed on my left shoulder, and I knew not to speak. Slowly, the figure rose and a shiver ran down my spine.
The figure walking towards me could not be described as human. His skin was white, and his red eyes were glistening maliciously.
I knew I should feel great honour to be in his presence, but I only felt fear.
"Draco," he hissed. "Your forearm."
My hands shaking, I pulled back my black wizards robes and held out my forearm for my master. Slowly, he pulled his wand from his robes and pressed it to my pale skin.
I looked to my parents, who were now sitting down among the others. My father, Lucius, looked as if he'd seen no greater day. My mother however, stared at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, eyes cast down.
My master spoke the incantation, and searing pain crept up my arm and through my whole being. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out.
Aunt Bellatrix was beside herself. She leant in our master's general direction, at the very edge of her chair, lapping up his presence.
Finally, I looked in the eyes of Voldemort. There I saw no emotion at all.
Suddenly, the pain stopped, and I glanced at the new mark on my arm. I was no longer a young boy, a student at Hogwarts Shool of Withcraft and Wizardry. I was now a Death Eater, and a spy for the Dark Lord.